


Seven Devils

by 796116311389



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Deal with a Devil, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Magical Realism, NOT A DARKFIC, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possession, Real brief implied suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-01 08:22:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14516283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/796116311389/pseuds/796116311389
Summary: When John is shot in Afghanistan he meets a devil and makes a deal to live.A game of hide and seek for his life.But he doesn't know all the rules and the clock is ticking.





	1. The Deal

"Please God, let me live."

John lies gasping in the sand. His blood is pouring into the sand underneath him.

He can feel his life slipping away from him.

All in all he's in a pretty desperate way, which is how the devil finds him.

John watches as all around him time comes to a standstill. People freeze in the middle of running, birds up above stop in midflight, and an absolute silence descends upon them all.

John realises he isn't in any pain any more and sits up. He looks around at everything.

"So this is death," he murmurs to himself.

"Hardly." A gasping voice like rocks grating together answers him.

John startles and spins around to face the owner of the voice. He comes face to face with a naked man his height, with completely black eyes, firey red hair, and skin the colour of slate.

John gives a yelp and falls over backwards.

"What are you?!"

"What I am exactly isn't of any consequence. However, I do have a question for you. What would you give to live?"

John stares up at the man creature suddenly remembering his grandmother.

_'Watch your words Johnny, otherwise you might call the fae. And if you should ever have the misfortune to meet one of their ilk, appeal to their vanity and love of games and, always remember, watch your words.'_

"You're a f-fairy?"

The creature laughs. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard and John's skin crawls.

"Fae, devil, djinn. It's all the same." It leans down into John's face. "Now tell me what you want."

"I want to live."

It smiles with too many teeth. "Excellent and what would you give me if I gave you what you wanted?"

John's mind is spinning. He's thinking as quickly as he can. What can he give that won't cost him anything?

"I would give you a game."

John's heart is beating fast. He knows he's playing with fire, but he has a chance to survive this. Survive being shot.

The creature pulls itself back up to standing and narrows it's eyes at John.

John gets the feeling he's being reevaluated. The creature hadn't expected him to be cunning.

"A game." It's head shakes back and forth as if rolling the idea around it's head. "I accept. Deal."

"Wait! Deal? We haven't even discussed what kind of game." John yells in a panic.

The creature gives it's eerie laugh again, "Should have stipulated in your offer. But this is the most interesting offer I've had in eons. So, I'll give you a hint." It leans in close and thrusts it's hand into John's chest, not through his flesh, but into the very core of John's being. 

It pulls from John a silvery iridescent geode with a vein of black running through it's core. It straightens once more and leers down at John before flexing its fingers and shattering the stone into seven pieces.

It throws the shards up into the sky and John watches in horror as they fly off. He knows that whatever the creature has stolen from him, it's very important.

"The game is hide and seek. Now off you go John Watson. The clock is ticking."

The creature fades away like a mirage and suddenly the world comes alive again, the sound startling John at the same time as the pain in his shoulder hits him.

He falls onto his back and his vision swims as suddenly his mate Bill Murray appears above him. Bill grabs John and drags him to cover and John hears Bill laugh to himself before he passes out,

"Watson, you lucky son of a gun."


	2. The Game is Afoot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heed any tag changes. If you see something I should have tagged for let me know in the comments.

John is let out of hospital six months and seven days after he is shot. Which turns out to be more than enough time to convince himself that what he saw when he was shot, the deal he made with a devil was all in his head. A hallucination as he lay dying in the sand.

He returns to London with a little pension and little hope.

He lives in a little bedsit. His life bleakly exhausting despite the routine of nothing.

Get up. Stare at the blog. Clean his gun. Go see Ella. Walk for hours. Stare at the blog some more. Stare at the drawer with the gun.

Don't die.

It's on one of the routine walks that he runs into Mike Stamford or rather, more accurately, Mike sees John and John wishes anything that he could flaunt societal convention and ignore Mike.

Mike jokes obliviously and John nods along thinking of the drawer back at the bedsit.

Then:

"How about you? Living in London now?"

"Barely. I'll need to leave soon. Army pension."

"Harry?"

"No."

"Why not get a flatmate?"

"Who'd want me for a flatmate?"

Mike smiles like the fates above.

When John lays eyes on the man in the lab his heart gives a lurch and he feels his adrenaline kick in. There is something about the man that pulls John in.

He's familiar and, yet, John is positive he's never seen this man before in his life.

The man needs to borrow a phone and John offers his and as he brushes his hands against the stranger an electric shock passes through him. He stiffens in surprise, barely managing to stifle his gasp. It's not quite normal to have this reaction to a total stranger.

It's doubly weird when a young mousy woman comes in and brushes past John. He experiences the same sort of deja vu and electric shock.

Somehow these two people are important to him and for the life of him he has no idea why.

The man is carelessly cruel to the woman, Molly, though she seems resigned to his behaviour, obviously pining after him.

John wonders briefly if they had some sort of failed relationship before deciding that's not quite the dynamic between them.

She leaves and the man pulls a greatcoat on over his suit and tells John to meet him tomorrow to see about sharing a flat.

John looks to Mike and Mike confirms that he never told this man a thing about John.

The man, Sherlock, knows him even though they've just met and it unsettles John as well as excites him.

Sherlock leaves and John watches him with disbelief. He's bewildered by the entire encounter.

His routine changes.

That night he makes a blog entry.

That night he has a nightmare about being shot in the sand and an eerie voice like shattering glass laughing and laughing and laughing...  


*******************

The next evening he meets Sherlock on the doorstep of 221B Baker Street. Sherlock's demeanour is slightly different, whereas the day before he was enigmatic in the extreme, today he seems to be almost trying to charm John.

Or it could be because they are in his home and the landlady almost seems to be a second mother to Sherlock. John just can't tell yet what's typical for Sherlock.

Either way though, John is still feeling the weird sensations of the day prior when he comes within the proximity of Sherlock. A weird double sensation of knowing without knowing he knows exactly who Sherlock is. It's disorienting, almost like an itch in the back of his mind and a tightness in his chest.

Mrs. Hudson implies that John is Sherlock's new beau and John is surprised by the implication. He looks at Sherlock in a new light, new options potentially opening themselves up before him.

John seats himself and inadvertently insults Sherlock when he questions the man's deductive prowess. Before they can get into a row over it, however, a grey haired man interrupts them and John is surprised, yet again, with the sensation of deja vu and he's positive if he were to touch the Detective Inspector Lestrade he would experience the same electric shock he got yesterday from both Sherlock and Molly.

So discomfited by the weird experience, he barely notices that Sherlock has dashed out of the flat, leaving him and Mrs. Hudson alone together.

He does notice when Mrs. Hudson comes to stand before him.

He looks up from his seated position and receives the fright of his life as Mrs. Hudson stares down at him with completely black eyes. She smiles with too many teeth and John realises his deathbed hallucination was all too real.

"Hello John," its voice even more jarring and uncomfortable than in John's half remembered nightmares, "long time, no see."

John's breathing is elevated, but controlled as he responds, "You're Mrs. Hudson?"

It smirks with Mrs. Hudson's mouth. "No, John. I'm merely borrowing her existence on this plane. The old, the young, the sick, and the mad all exist much closer to the veils between your world and the others."

John eyes the creature warily as it looms over him. "Ok. So, why are you borrowing her?"

"Because I needed to speak with you. You're progressing very slowly and quite frankly I'm worried time will expire and you'll have done nothing to entertain me. You promised me a game, John Watson, and I've yet to see you make a move. Perhaps you are reneging on our deal. Maybe I should just consume you." It smiles again and this time Mrs. Hudson's teeth are sharp and terrifying.

John doesn't let it intimidate him.

"No, I'm not reneging on our deal. In case you hadn't noticed, I've been laid up in hospital for several months. I only just got out."

The creature shrugged Mrs. Hudson's shoulders as if to imply that was an irrelevant fact. "You're boring me. Make a move."

"How can I? I don't even know what I'm looking for or how to find it."

"Don't you?"

The creature sways its head back and forth, sizing John up.

It suddenly dawns on John what the creature is referring to, "The deja vu."

"Mmmm, yes, that's a phrase as good as any. Find the shattered pieces of your soul, turn vice to virtue or," it leans in close and sniffs along John's face before whispering, "I consume you."

John jerks his head away from the creature in Mrs. Hudson's skin. Their eyes meet and it stares at John as it straightens up.

"Tick tock, Doc."

The black clears from Mrs. Hudson's eyes and she smiles warmly at John, "Tea?"

John lets out breath, "That would be great. Thank you."

Mrs. Hudson goes to the kitchen just as Sherlock reappears in the doorway.

"You were an army doctor."

"Yes."

"Seen a lot of injuries? Deaths?"

"Too many. Enough for a lifetime."

"Wanna see some more?"

"Oh God, yes."

*******************  


The car park is dimly lit and John wonders what his life even is anymore. He's already feeling annoyed after Sherlock ditched him at the crime scene and being essentially kidnapped in the name of Sherlock isn't really making him any less annoyed.

As he approaches the man leaning on an umbrella he feels the same sense of Deja vu.

Another one then. That's four. At this rate he'll have found all seven shards by the end of the day. Though that's only half the battle. He still needs to figure out what the creature meant by turn 'vice to virtue.

The man tries to warn him off Sherlock and, when that doesn't work, bribe him to spy on Sherlock.

Sherlock texts John about danger and John decides he's had enough of the stranger.

"Are we done?"

"Hardly, Dr. Watson. Until next time."

"Yeah, ta." John makes an abrupt about face and gets back in the car to go to Baker Street, though first he'll stop at his place and get his gun.

***********************  


John is going to be sick.

Sherlock left a few moments ago and it's clear that he's gone with the owner of the phone. He doesn't have Lestrade's phone number and Sherlock is ignoring his calls. There's only one thing for it. He grabs the laptop with the phone tracking website open and grabs a cab. He'll have to follow Sherlock and help in any way he can.

Hopefully he won't be too late.

It's a tense few minutes while he directs the cab driver through London to Sherlock's location. When they arrive at the phone's location on the map it's to a pair of identical looking buildings and John could scream. It's a 50/50 chance he gets the right one and he likely will only have the time to go through one. Sherlock said that the killer convinced the victims to take the pills on their own. John knows Sherlock is a genius, but like he said earlier on their walk to the restaurant, 'it needs an audience' and from what John knows of Sherlock the killer might make an offer Sherlock can't refuse.

John picks the building on the left and begins searching all the rooms calling for Sherlock. He runs by a room and sees through the window, across in the opposite building, a light, Sherlock and the Killer each holding a pill up. There's no time. John won't make it to Sherlock soon enough to stop him. He pulls the gun from his pants waistband, aims at the serial killer, and fires.  
*************************  


Sherlock is sitting in the back of an ambulance and speaking with Lestrade. John watches from the side of the road, beyond the police line. He's still in disbelief that Sherlock would be stupid enough to even consider taking the pill.

Sherlock suddenly catches his eye, throws off the shock blanket around his shoulders and heads towards John.

"Nice shot."

John gives him a smile, "Ah, yes. Must have been."

"Where's the gun?"

John isn't even surprised that Sherlock knows that he was the one who shot the serial killer. "In the Thames."

"Hm, ok. Better wipe the powder burns off your hands just in case, though I doubt you'd serve time for this. You are okay, yes?"

"Yes, why shouldn't I be?"

"You did just shoot a man."

"Well, he wasn't very good was he?"

"No. Bad cabbie too. Should have seen the route he took to get us here."

John giggles and looks to Sherlock with shining eyes, Sherlock can't help but chuckle along in his deep baritone. John tries to shush him through his giggles, "Stop, we can't laugh. It's a crime scene!"

"You started it."

They both calm down and John grabs Sherlock's arm making the taller man stop and face him.

"You were going to take that pill, weren't you?"

Sherlock looks into John's eyes and he sees the moment Sherlock decides to lie to him.

"I was biding my time. I knew you'd turn up."

"No, you didn't. What did he say to make you take that pill?"

Sherlock sighs and purses his lips and for a minute John doesn't think he's going to get an answer.

"He said he didn't think I could guess the correct pill. Obviously the only way to confirm that I was right was to take the pill." Sherlock pulls himself up as he says this.

John looks at Sherlock in disbelief, "Have you never seen 'The Princess Bride'?"

Sherlock narrows his eyes, wary of John, "I don't see what pop culture has to do-"

John cuts him off, "Both pills were poisonous."

"Impossible."

"Obvious."

Sherlock gapes at John in shock, "One pill was safe and I had picked the right one. I would have proved him wrong."

John smiles and shakes his head, "I can't believe you were going to risk your life on a point of pride." He freezes suddenly at his words.

Pride.

Oh, God.

Vice into Virtue.

John looks at Sherlock with sudden understanding of what he needs to do to get his soul back. There are seven people with a piece of his soul and he is going to have to figure out their vice and somehow, someway, make their vice into a virtue. And one of those people is Sherlock.

He needs to convince this stubborn, beautiful man to essentially not be Sherlock Holmes.

The creature has given him an unwinnable game.

"John. Are you okay? I wasn't really going to take the pill. Though I was right." Sherlock is looking at him with concern, "You're awfully pale all of a sudden."

John lets out a breath like he was punched and manages to croak out, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just, uh, hungry."

He takes a deep breath and looks around the crime scene. He notices the man from the car park standing just past the line of police cars slightly in the shadows. "Sherlock. The man I told you about from the car park is here." John stares at the man and doesn't let him out of his sight.

Sherlock turns to face the man, rolls his eyes and walks right up to him. John quickly follows behind, curious and alert.

"Why are you here?"

"I was worried about you."

"Oh, yes. I heard."

"Always so aggressive, Sherlock. Did it ever occur to you that we belong on the same side?"

"No."

"Sherlock We are the same you and I. This feud is childish and people will suffer. Plus, you know how it always upset Mummy?"

"I wasn't the one who always upset her, Mycroft."

John who has been watching the exchange tensely, suddenly does a double take. "I'm sorry hold on. Mummy? Who's mummy?"

Sherlock addresses John while still glaring at Mycroft. "She's my mother- our mother."

John frowns in disbelief, " You mean he's...your...?"

"Brother, yes. We're brothers."

"Oh."

"How's the diet going Mycroft? Gaining again?"

Mycroft sneers slightly, "Losing it actually."

"Sure you are." Sherlock steps back and starts to walk away, "Let's go, John."

John gives a final glance and goodnight to Mycroft before catching up to Sherlock.

"So dinner?"

"Yes, of course. Chinese. I can always predict the fortune cookies."

John laughs, "No you can't."

"Almost can."

John considers the answer as they continue to the main street to hail a cab.

Maybe he _can_ win this game.


End file.
